


the stranger

by iihappydaysii



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Chess, Helwater, Jealousy, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Pining, jealous!jamie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23014846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: This time when Lord John comes to Helwater, he's not alone, and Jamie can't possibly be jealous. No absolutely not. Not jealous at all.
Relationships: Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey, Lord John Grey/Original Character(s)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 150





	the stranger

This time, when Lord John Grey came to Helwater, he was not alone. A man had come with him. 

In a deep indigo coat with bronze buttons, the stranger was well-dressed, but not as finely as Grey. His tricorn was sat slightly askew over cropped black hair. He was deep in conversation with Grey, and when Jamie stepped forward to take their horses, it felt as if Grey had barely noticed him at all.

Certainly, there were times when Jamie had bristled at Grey’s appearance, going so far as to pretend he hadn’t seen the man. But the coldness had never run the other way and they’d come to some form of a truce in the year after Willie was born. Based on the difference in behavior alone, it was hard not to wonder the identity of the man who had so thoroughly captivated Lord John’s attention. 

As he guided the horses away, Jamie glanced curiously over his shoulder to see Grey laugh—a full-bellied thing—at something the stranger had said.

Grey and his nameless companion had come mid-morning, but it was dusk before the major arrived in the stables to speak with Jamie. It wasn’t necessarily unusual that it had taken so long. Grey often had business to do with the Dunsanys, but ever since Willie, they had spent more time together. For better or worse.

“Good evening, Jamie,” Grey said. “How have you been? Willie’s grown so much since I was here last.”

Jamie stopped pitching hay. “Aye, he has, hasn’t he? I canna believe how quickly it’s happened.” 

“That’s what my brother says about my nieces and nephews.” Grey gave him a warm but not too eager smile. He found, inexplicably, that he missed the usual eagerness the major brought with him.

“I’m done here, if ye would be interested in a game of chess?” Jamie asked, before realizing it may have been the first time he’d been the one to offer rather than Grey.

“Well, I do have an engagement this evening, but I believe I have time for one short game.”

Jamie stabbed his pitchfork in a hay bale and grinned, cat-like, as he appraised Grey. “Dinna fash, Major. It willna take me long to best ye.”

Chess was Jamie Fraser’s game. He had a mind to see two or three steps ahead of his opponent. Grey was a good player, better than most Jamie had played, but he only rarely beat Jamie and that was usually when Jamie was tired or distracted or lacked a particular interest that day. Or on occasion, when he felt a strange sort of pity for the man, though that happened more rarely than he believed Grey thought it did.

Jamie was just two moves away from winning. All he needed to do was move his bishop up three and the game was his. 

Grey was washed pale in the petal pink dust, the glow highlighting the tiny lines around his eyes. His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he watched Jamie’s hands.

_Just move your bishop up three,_ a voice spoke in Jamie’s head.

His finger grazed the tip of the bishop, but he didn’t lift it off the board. With a sigh, he moved his knight instead. 

_What are you doing, man?_

Jamie ignored that voice in his head again. Was it crime to make a bad chess move? Or to want to spend time with someone who regarded him as an equal? Or to be fascinated with the pink, round mark at this crest of the major’s cheekbone—?

“Jamie?” The sound of his name in Grey’s voice roused Jamie from his thoughts. 

“Hm? What is it?”

“It’s your turn.”

“Oh right.” Jamie cleared his throat. “Yes.”

Now, Jamie realized, moving the bishop wouldn’t help anything. He’d wandered his way into a trap of his own making.

In just three turns, Grey had him in checkmate.

“I distinctly recall you saying you were going to best me,” Grey said, levity in his voice as he stood.

“Ah, well. Even I canna win every game.” Jamie smiled. “Would ye allow me to try and regain my title?”

“Normally, I’d happily oblige, but I do have an… engagement.”

“Aye, ye did say that.” Jamie felt a strange warmth in his cheeks, like the flush of embarrassment or— _dare he think it—_ rejection.

“We’ll play again, though, before I go. And tomorrow, I was thinking a short ride and tea outside with Willie.”

“I’ll see you then, Major.”

Grey stood from the table and nodded, before walking away down the path and into the trees. Jamie watched him leave. 

The next morning, before he was to meet Grey and Willie for tea, Jamie wandered down to the creek. He’d realized how much he smelled like the horses and the hay and felt it would do him good to clean off. He also decided to slip on his second, slightly nicer set of clothes, setting what he’d been wearing yesterday aside for a good wash. He stole a leaf from a mint plant in the garden and chewed it.

On his way to find Grey, he noticed himself in the reflection of a window, and he was glad he did because somehow in his washing, he’d missed a streak of mud near his ear. He brushed some straw off his coat, then continued on his way. 

Outside the front steps of Helwater, Willie was in Grey’s arms, his small hands patting Grey’s cheek. Suddenly, Grey pretended to bite at Willie’s fingers and the boy broke out into a fit of giggles. Moments later, Willie poked at the man’s cheeks again and Grey snapped. Willie laughed once more, and Jamie couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at his cheeks. 

They had a sweet relationship, Willie and Grey, Jamie could not deny that. 

Jamie was opening his mouth to speak when the front door of the house opened and the black-haired stranger bounded down the stairs towards Grey.

Grey’s eyes met the other man’s and he smiled. 

Jamie was frozen, words trapped in his throat, when Grey finally noticed him. “Morning, J… Mr. Mackenzie. I have to introduce you to a friend of mine. Mac, this is my friend Mr. Matthew Taylor.”

Jamie forced politeness, though he shouldn’t have had to force it. Mr. Taylor seemed kind enough—a merchant, he’d explained. He lacked an air about him that most had upon meeting Jamie, either fear of his visible size and strength, or a mocking of his status. Mr. Taylor seemed to regard Jamie simply, as just a fellow man. However, Jamie had to suppress a feral urge to crack the man across the mouth with his knuckles when Jamie realized the man would be joining he, Willie and Grey on their morning excursion.

Willie was on his back, chewing on his left foot and making all manner of nonsensical noises, and they had eaten almost all of the sandwiches and drained the last of the tea, when Jamie finally figured it out.

Taylor’s shoulder was against Grey’s shoulder, for maybe no other reason than the small log they were perched on, and Grey had whispered something in his ear. Had Jamie not _known_ the truth of what Grey was then it would’ve been impossible to make the discovery he’d just made, but Jamie did know and it was suddenly clear. Lord John Grey was attracted to this Mr. Matthew Taylor, with his solid jaw, muscular arms and eyes like willow bark. 

Jamie figured, from the perspective of an objective observer, this merchant of Grey’s could be considered handsome, but— _again_ , from the perspective of an _objective_ observer—his handsomeness was not in the same caliber as Grey’s. Though, _objectively_ , there would be few men in England or Scotland that could consider themselves among the major’s ranks in terms of attractiveness. Objectively speaking.

He wondered what Mr. Taylor would think if he knew when Lord John was appraising him with that _look,_ he was likely imagining what he would like naked as the day he was born.

A dark part of Jamie’s mind imagined telling the merchant, considering that it might scare him off, but he knew, in truth, he wouldn’t do that to a man who’d become, not a friend, but something that was very much the same shape.

Regardless of these thoughts, Jamie somehow managed to make pleasant conversation with the two men until it was time for Willie’s nap. Taylor had gone back inside at Grey’s insistence, and Willie had drifted off to sleep with his chubby arms around Grey’s neck and his face pressed into the crook.

To not wake Willie, they spoke to each other in whispers.

“Did I do something to offend you?” Grey asked. “….Recently, that is?”

“Why would ye ask me that?”

“Why would I…? You were hostile that entire time.”

“If ye think that was hostile, I dinna think ye want to see me truly hostile,” Jamie said through bared teeth.

Grey snorted. “It doesn’t matter. I just wanted the opportunity to apologize if I offended you in some way. It felt as if things have been softening between us and I hoped not to lose any progress we might have made.”

“Ye dinna offend me, major. I’m simply tired is all. I dinna sleep well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jamie. I do hope you feel better.” Grey smiled, adjusting Willie in his arms. “I should put Willie down to sleep.”

Jamie swallowed and gave him a curt nod, before turning his back. For some reason, this time, Jamie did not want to watch the man walk away.

That night, it really was true that Jamie couldn’t sleep. He found himself tossing and turning in the loft, unable to find a comfortable position, or a comfortable thought—that wasn’t Grey—to help him float away from consciousness. He was nearly there, finally, thinking of the Scottish moors, when he heard strange noises outside the stable. 

Worried about possible thieves, they’d had a few encounters recently, Jamie slid out of the stable, grabbing his pitchfork as a makeshift weapon along the way. He was plunged into darkness, but could hear light footsteps and rustling leaves. Jamie stepped around the back of the barn. There was a laugh and a distinct “shh…” then, he noticed a lantern on the ground. The light was faint, barely turning the figures into dark silhouettes, still it was obvious who Jamie was looking at and what they were doing.

Grey and the merchant were embracing, _kissing,_ not a sliver of that lantern light able to fit between them. It wasn’t something Jamie had ever seen before, not really, two men kissing like that, like lovers, for no other reason it seemed than that they both wanted to.

“We shouldn’t do this out here,” Taylor whispered, as Grey leaned in to steal another kiss. “Someone could see us.”

“My rooms upstairs, then?”

Jamie stood hidden where he was, protected by the sanctuary of the barn’s dark shadow. Once they were gone, Jamie returned to his bed in the loft above the stable, but he did not sleep.

He lay there, fighting with his own thoughts and the memory of the sound of their lips moving wetly against each other. Jamie couldn’t help but picture what they must be doing right now. Taylor divesting Grey of his clothes, revealing the even fairer skin hidden beneath the fabric. Would they leave bruises on each other’s bodies? And who— _Christ_ — who would spread their legs for the other? The vision of John on his back, knees pulled up, waiting there for that man to open him up like a woman… Jamie resisted the urge to snap something in two. 

Only then did he realize that despite the rage, he’d grown hard against his leg. Maybe if he just squeezed his eyes tight and thought of something awful, like the rank scent of a prison, the problem would resolve itself. Instead, his mind wandered back to the scene in his mind of a naked Grey laid out on bedsheets. This time, however, he forgot to imagine the merchant and the vision no longer made him angry, it just made him ache. 

Jamie let out a broken cry and reached into his britches. When he found his release, with little effort, it was with the names of God and John Grey on his lips. 

The next day, when Jamie was playing chess with Grey, he had never been more distracted in his life. How could he focus on which piece to move where when all he could think of was what he had done last night? And who’s face he saw in his mind while he chased down his pleasure? Not to mention, Jamie had seen Grey kissing Taylor the night before and knew they’d disappeared into Grey’s room to… do what lovers do. The rage boiled up inside him again. He accidentally knocked over three chess pieces when he tried to make a move. 

“Did you not sleep well last night?” Grey inquired.

Jamie bristled. “What? Why would ask that?”

“You mentioned it yesterday. That you weren’t sleeping well… that’s all.”

“Oh, yes. Right. I slept fine actually, Major.” _Liar._ There wasn’t much reason to lie, or any at all, having Grey believe he’d not slept well was actually the best move he could make, but its closeness to the truth made Jamie uncomfortable. 

In an embarrassingly small number of moves, Grey bested him again.

“Twice in a row,” Grey said, smiling that smile that made him look more wild animal than British lord. “I think that’s a first.”

“I ken it is,” Jamie said, under his breath.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to step out before a second game again today.”

“Plans with Mr. Taylor,” Jamie said, still under his breath, as he stood.

“You dislike him,” Grey said and it wasn’t a question. 

Jamie thought he might like the man well enough if he kept his bloody hands off John Grey. 

“I dinna ken the man well. I have no opinion.”

“Now that I find hard to believe.” Grey smiled, a small thing, mostly to himself. “He’s an honorable man and good company. In time, I think you’ll come to like him.”

Jamie’s chest tightened and it forced out his breath. “He’ll be returning to Helwater?”

Grey smiled another one of those secret smiles. “Yes, I hope so.”

“Well.” Jamie clenched his jaw, pulling back his shoulders. He thought of how his father told him to make himself big if he encountered a predator in the forest. Grey wasn’t dangerous and yet he felt threatened. “If that’s the case, you’ll want to be more careful about where you two… act out your lusts.”

His face went pale white, realization sweeping over him. “Oh God, Jamie.”

“We’ve had a problem with thieves recently. I heard noises and I thought… what I found was a different crime all together.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Grey shut his eyes. “I certainly didn’t mean for you to see that.”

Jamie didn’t reply, but as Grey was standing there, cheeks pink from embarrassment, his body tense, Jamie’s mind betrayed him. He wondered what would happen if he stepped forward, put one hand under Grey’s chin and another on his waist. Could he kiss the man strong enough and deep enough to chase away thoughts of his merchant? Was there still enough want, enough passion, in Grey for Jamie that Jamie could take him for his own if he wanted? 

There were only a few steps between them. It would be easy enough to find out, but what would Jamie do if Grey pushed him away? What would he do if he didn’t? No matter what his body was telling him last night, no matter what the ache in his chest was telling him now, like a dog chasing down a horse, Jamie would have no idea what to do with Grey if he actually caught him.

“I promise,” Grey said. “You won’t have to see that again. I really do have to be going now though.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you… for the game.”

Jamie nodded. This was his chance. He could be like that dog, reach out for this man and try to figure out what the hell to do, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, stupidely, looking at Grey, until the man tipped his hat just slightly and walked away. 

In that moment, Jamie saw the paths in the woods of his life diverge. He’d taken this one, but he’dhave to spend his life with the knowledge that the other path existed, out there somewhere, and on it, Jamie Fraser was kissing Lord John Grey. 


End file.
